In a Stranger's Arms
by junodog
Summary: I don’t remember how long it was, or exactly what day it was. I just remember that familiar uniform, and someone who was willing to care.Oneshot, no yaoi, animebased.


One-shot. I got the idea for at random, and I had to get it down. It's first-person Ed's POV, which I haven't done too often. Hope ya like it!

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I barely remember what triggered it. I don't remember exactly where I was, or how I ended up back in my hotel room the next morning. I don't remember how long it was, or exactly what day it was. I just remember that familiar uniform, and someone who was willing to care.

I guess now that I think about it, it was probably because of what had happened to Nina. After so many months of living with her, I just couldn't believe that she could be killed like that. By her own father, no less. Sure, he wasn't the one who had destroyed her body, but he was the one who deformed it, turned it into something that nobody could live happily in. Even if she hadn't been doomed to live out the rest of her days in a lab, it was obvious she would never be as happy as she had been.

She was like a little sister to me. I wanted to protect her as much as I wanted to protect Al. And now, I feel like I failed her as badly as I failed my own flesh and blood. Two souls fated to live a less-than-pleasant life, simply because I'm not the person I strive to be.

After meeting with Barry the Chopper, I had become paranoid. I avoided eating meat for a few days because I was afraid it came from his shop. It wasn't too bad, though. Everyone around me seemed to understand. Lieutenant Hawkeye even went out of her way to make sure I was still getting what I needed without meat. She stopped by my room a few times to drop off a meal, although I didn't know it was her until I caught her talking to Al.

The cuts on my arm and face healed nicely, and thanks to Mustang ordering me to get them checked when the doctor recommended it, I only had one faint scar by the time that night rolled around.

I think, as far as I know, that I was at the headquarters in East City. I know it was some military building. I was exhausted, most likely from the lack of sleep and absurd amount of research I had been doing up until that point. I was probably at the library. I don't know what time they officially closed, but they always let me stay later. Maybe because of my rank, maybe because of my age or the fact that Colonel Mustang was essentially in charge of the place, but I was always there later than the public hours.

I don't know if I had been crying when I left the building or not. I was just exhausted, and I was stumbling on my way down the front steps. I felt like I couldn't do anything anymore. I couldn't think, I could barely see where I was going. The library was in a decent enough part of town, but since I was so out of it, I suppose I could easily have been taken advantage of. I guess I got lucky.

Maybe someone had noticed how much I had been pushing myself. Since I was barely sleeping at night, someone probably saw the signs of fatigue in my face, in the way I walked, in everything.

I'm not sure if I tripped or if I just let myself collapse, but I remember someone catching me. I never looked up at the face, or if I did, I don't remember it. All I remember is the blue fabric, and the military-issued gun at the person's side. They knew my name, as well, because I remember someone trying to talk to me.

I don't know if I tried to respond or not. It felt like I had nothing left in me at that point in time except for grief and frustration. I just wanted to empty myself, so that I could sleep. My body was telling me to sleep, but my mind refused to comply with these emotions prominent in my mind. I guess what happened was more of a survival instinct. When there's something inside you that hinders your body's ability to function, your body tries to expel it. Maybe that's why it happened so easily.

I remember grabbing onto that military jacket. I remember it being soaked with my tears. I remember strong arms wrapping around me, and I remember being led out of the cold, snowy street into someplace warm and dry. It might have been a car, or it might have been a building. All I know is that it was warm, and that someone was holding onto me. It felt good.

I don't know how long it was like that, but it must have been at least an hour. After a while, I had no more tears streaming down my face, and my head hurt from the dehydration. I remember receiving a glass of water. That was the only time those arms left me.

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The next morning, I woke up in my hotel room. My head still ached, but Al was right there next to me, a glass of water in hand. He handed it to me when I sat up, and I drank it, hoping that my headache would go away.

"Are you feeling okay, brother?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Um… what exactly happened, Al?"

"Last night? I'm not sure, I just know that Colonel Mustang dropped you off at around one in the morning. Were you just late coming back from the library?"

The colonel? Was he the one who had done that? No, I remember the way his hand looked when he'd grabbed my arm after Nina's death. His hands, and his arms, were different from the ones I'd been in last night.

"Actually, I don't really remember what happened, Al. You sure you didn't see anyone else?"

Al shrugged. "Well, Lieutenant Hawkeye was driving the car."

Lieutenant Hawkeye. No, she hadn't been the one either. Those arms, and the chest that I had been leaning on, definitely belonged to a man. And if the colonel had been the one to bring me back, then it had to be one of the four in the same office as Hawkeye.

"Brother, what happened last night?"

I could hear the concern in the echoing voice. Al probably thought something terrible had happened, and I couldn't blame him. I smiled reassuringly at him. "Don't worry. I was just tired, and someone from the military found me before I passed out in the street."

"Brother!"

I cringed. Now Al was going to be worried about me passing out in the streets. So much for any chance of privacy. "It's okay, Al. I know it could have turned out to be very bad, but I'm fine. And I promise I won't let that happen again."

"Do you really mean it?"

"Of course I mean it!" I snapped, irritated that Al didn't seem to believe me. "Look, things have just been a little… crazy lately. I didn't think it'd get to me like that, but if you're still worried about that, then you can come with me from now on."

That seemed to reassure him, and he took the glass from my hand and refilled it in the bathroom. "Here. You're probably really dehydrated right now."

I took the glass. "Thanks."

"Oh, and you're supposed to meet the colonel in an hour, remember?"

I nodded. "How much time do I have to get ready?"

"You can relax, brother. It's only about twenty minutes to headquarters."

"Thanks."

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The meeting with the colonel was brief, and he didn't mention last night at all until I was about to leave the room. Even then, it was just a brief mention, and I didn't know what to think of it.

"It's good to see that you're doing better today," he said as my hand was on the doorknob.

"Ah, yeah. Thanks," I replied.

"Try to get more sleep, okay? You could really get hurt if this happens again."

I barely even know what happened. I nodded as I opened the door. "Don't worry," I said with a rueful grin. "Al won't let this happen again."

After I left the office, I found myself drawn to the room that usually contained Mustang's crew. I didn't purposefully go in, but they were filing out into the hall, and none of them gave me any clues about who had showed me kindness. No, they were all concerned, but as for the one who had actually put effort into helping me, I was clueless.

Part of me liked not knowing. It would have been embarrassing to know who had put up with me for that long, who had made me feel like I had no reason to worry as much as I do, who had, in a sense, saved me. I'd have to see them and remember the night where I, Edward Elric, the great and powerful Fullmetal Alchemist, was crying like a baby in some stranger's arms. A stranger that I know, and yet someone whose identity is unknown to me. Like a childhood memory that may not actually exist, those vague events that might have just been very realistic dreams.

Maybe someday I would be able to face him, knowing exactly who he is and why he felt so compelled to stay with me instead of just dumping me somewhere safe and letting me fend for myself from there. But for now, I'm content with the knowledge that someone took that step to make me feel like someone actually cares about me.

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It happened again. This time was different, but it still reminded me of that night. I had been caught out in the rain, and somehow I had been separated from Al. I felt miserable and bitter, and when someone touched my shoulder, I almost took her head off.

I ended up spending the night on Lieutenant Hawkeye's couch, Black Hayate sleeping on my leg. Even though I was embarrassed about what had happened, she understood. I felt grateful toward her, and I learned to trust her more after that night.

Now I wonder if it'll be the same for the other one who had helped me two years ago.

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I lingered in the doorway after my meeting with Mustang, and he noticed. "Is something wrong, Fullmetal?" he asked when he looked up and saw me standing there."

"I… do you remember that night, about two years ago now, I don't remember the exact date, but it was in February…"

"I believe so. What about it?"

"Who was it that found me? I mean, I know you're the one who brought me back to the hotel, but I know you aren't the one who found me at first."

"And why couldn't I be?" Roy asked, a teasing hurt in his voice.

"Physical characteristics," I stated simply. "Your hands are a different shape."

Roy sighed. "You don't remember anything?"

"Just vague details."

"You know, I asked them not to mention it because we wanted you to be able to feel strong. You had a weak moment, but we didn't rub it in your face."

"I know, and I'm grateful for that, but… I think I can know now."

"Very well." Roy leaned forward in his chair and spoke in a low voice. "It was Breda."

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I was mildly surprised. Sure, Breda was a great guy, and he'd always been nice to me, but was he really the kind of person to hug? As I approached him in the hallway, I decided that he could be. He had been for me.

"Hey, Ed. How's it going?" Breda asked.

"I'm fine. How about you?"

"Not too bad. Anyway, I'll see you around." Breda ruffled my hair and continued walking. I stood in my place for a second, unsure of what to do.

"Um…" I finally managed, loud enough for Breda to stop and look back at me.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Thank you."

Breda looked at me for a minute in confusion before smiling and waving me off. "You know what the boss would say. I only helped because it looks good."

"Is that what you're saying too, then?" I asked, a smile on my face.

"I'll let you decide," Breda answered before turning and walking down the hall. He waved.

So the stranger's arms didn't belong to a stranger anymore.


End file.
